


He Wanted It

by FlybyStardancer, gatekat



Series: Defining Family [1]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Date Rape, F/M, Historical, M/M, Rape Culture, Sticky Sex, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-08
Updated: 2013-05-08
Packaged: 2017-12-10 19:45:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/789464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlybyStardancer/pseuds/FlybyStardancer, https://archiveofourown.org/users/gatekat/pseuds/gatekat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>G1.<br/>Early in the war Sideswipe goes out drinking when Sunstreaker is away.  It goes down hill from there until one of the few remaining Praxians comes to his defense.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Wanted It

Sideswipe, well known as the life of the party, was not having the best of decaorns. His twin had been loaned out to the group trying to retake Altihex, and wasn't expected to return for several metacycles. At the earliest. It left their twin-bond thinned by the distance, and it _hurt_ that Sideswipe couldn't feel that reassuring tickle of emotion at the back of his spark. It also meant that he wasn't as much of his usual cheery self. Instead of getting out into the center of whatever was going on in the rec room, he hovered at its edges, watching.

Of course, there were other reasons to stay out of the limelight. The twins had a _reputation_ as the mechs to go to for a wild, fun night. Few seemed to notice that Sideswipe didn't join in. He simply funneled the attention to his brother, since Sunstreaker was the one who enjoyed having a steady stream of new lovers. It normally worked for them, since most mechs found the red twin more approachable and didn't notice or didn't care about the handoff. However, without Sunstreaker there, it often proved annoying when Sideswipe received more attention than he wanted.

As for this orn, the red frontliner was intent on getting overcharged enough that he wouldn't notice how empty his quarters were.

"Hey handsome," a new voice, light and _very_ young, drew Sideswipe's reluctant attention to the bright orange and red mech only just in his final frame and showing how new it was to him.

"Hello yourself," Sideswipe replied with a grin as he looked over at the new mech. "Haven't seen you around here. I'm Sideswipe." It couldn't hurt to be friendly, even if he wasn't particularly interested in company.

"I got in four orns ago," the sleek mech quirked a grin and gulped down some high grade. "I'm Hot Rod. Where's your brother? I heard you two were inseparable."

"He got loaned out to Altihex," Sideswipe replied with a swig of his own cube. "Normally The Powers That Be remember that separating us ain't exactly the best idea, but I guess someone forgot this time."

"Time to remind them?" Hot Rod actually sounded a bit excited.

Sideswipe smirked a bit at that. "Sunny does most of the reminding. The commander over there will be begging to send him back soon enough."

"So no payback on the local one?" Hot Rod sounded a bit disappointed, but there was nothing to it in his field. "Too bad. I've heard your pranks rock."

Sideswipe's smirk widened at that. "Now where'd you hear that little bit?" he asked, feigning innocence as he dumped back the rest of his cube and got another.

"It's just the word around," Hot Rod grinned back, trying to cover for the fact that he honestly couldn't remember. "That and never get between either of you and the enemy."

The red twin snickered as he started in on a new cube of high grade. "Now, that's true. Ya wouldn't want to get run over."

Hot Rod relaxed against the bar and flicked his field along Sideswipe's strongly enough to be a clear statement of interest, but not so strongly that it was rude, at least given the mech's lack of age. "I bet you're amazing to watch."

Sideswipe raised an optic ridge at that. "You should see us when there's Seekers around, then. No one can match our technique."

Bright blue optics glittered eagerly, quite willing to take the subject and the polite rejection of having his field ignored. "I've heard about that. Just when they thought they ruled the air, in swoop the twins to start grounding Seekers. I saw a vid of it in training once. It was _amazing_."

Sideswipe raised a toast to that before finishing off his second cube. "Yup, we've got it down to a fine art." Implied in his tone was _and don't you try it too_ , but there was no way _Sideswipe_ was going to openly advocate caution. Cybertron would fall apart if he did.

"And the jet pack to make it work," the sleek red and orange mech said with a tone that was of the 'and I don't, yet' variety.

It was a look and feel Sideswipe remembered well in himself, and though he was now far, far older than this mech, he was close enough mentally in living the rush to feel a bit of kinship there. What was harder to tell was if this barely-adult mech would keep his wild nature through the battles or if surviving, if he survived, would caution him as it did most.

"Have any plans for tonight?" Hot Rod tried to fill the silence of being studied.

"'M not lookin' to share my berth, if that's what you're askin'," Sideswipe replied honestly, draining his second cube and signaling for a third.

"Just getting overcharged enough to not think?" Hot Rod gave a guess, his cube still only half finished.

"Got it in one," Sideswipe replied with a grin as he grabbed another cube. "There's plenty o' other mechs willin' to help ya if ya want ta have a good time."

"Then have a good night in oblivion," Hot Rod offered and wandered off to find more agreeable company. It left Sideswipe alone, fending off only a couple more very limited attempts at socializing before he was too far gone to care and the world had a nice static-y fuzz around the edges.

"Hey there," a light voice, one Sideswipe knew he should be able to place but couldn't, went with a wash of bright, bright pink in his optic feed. "Let's get you to your berth, what do you say?"

"Berth'sh good," he agreed, and got to his pedes. Or at least he tried to. Who's idea was it to put the floor _there_? Made it hard to stand.

Surprisingly strong hands for such a light frame helped steady him with instructions he couldn't organize his processors enough to understand. Still he got enough to manage, and was soon propped against the pink mecha when they came to a stop and he was facing ... a wall?

"Where'sh thish?" he slurred, leaning more heavily against the other frame. Walls weren't supposed to rock like that, were they?

"Your quarters," the pink mecha said patiently. "Palm on square, Sideswipe. Get your palm on the square."

There was a square? Oh, there... Sideswipe reached out, and it took a couple tries, but he managed to get his hand on the panel. There was a whirling noise, and part of the wall in front of him disappeared. The red mech blinked, not having seen the door. "In now?" he asked, one hand grabbing onto pink armor to keep from floating off.

"Yes," that light voice laughed. The field against his felt good, warm and friendly, and the frame it went with was a lot steadier than the floor as he stumbled forward. At some point he fell on his back, but where he landed felt right to lay on so he stayed there. Then the pink mecha sat next to him and ran delicate, small, so very small hands along his arm.

They felt so good, as circuits fired at the least little contact. The excess charge skittered along his armor, following those hands. He moaned softly at the feeling, the ceiling above him spinning. The hands continued to touch him, playing across his chest, his legs.

"Feelsh good..." he groaned, arching into the touch. Black hands found pink armor purely by accident and he kneaded in time with the jolts of charge running through his system. His field pulsed against hers, sharing how good it felt, and hers returned the pulses, encouraging that good feeling to increase. Soft lip plates brushed against his as she leaned forward, their frames rubbing together and her arousal clear in the way she rubbed against him.

He couldn't help himself, his helm pressed up and lips parted against hers. Arousal built in his own frame, intensified by the charge from the high grade. It was so hard to think, so easy to give in to the pleasure warming his systems. Their glossae dueled briefly before hers won and began to map his oral cavity while her hands continued to play along his plating, stroking and delving into gaps to tease the cables and wires underneath.

Eventually the kiss ended and she moved down his frame, settling between his legs as she cupped his interface panel, fingers massaging the sensitive black metal. It took him several long moments to realize that the click he heard was his interface cover opening and the sudden increase in pleasure surging through his circuits were those slender fingers teasing his spike housing.

"No," he whimpered, shaking his helm even as his spike responded, extending into her touch and he moaned and pressed into that touch further. Excess charge swept away what little control he had left, his hips bucking into the too-good touch even though distress tinged his field.

"So big," her voice reached through the hazy distress, her tone and field completely at odds with his.

Even as he tried to form a response- another denial, the coordination to push her away- her lip plates kissed the tip of his spike before sliding down, taking him into her mouth.

The cry that sprung from his vocalizer was completely involuntary. He convulsed from the surge of pleasure, unintentionally thrusting his spike further in. He whimpered, his own body betraying him as it sought the easiest way to clear out the excess charge.

"So eager," she shivered and pulled back, only to climb up to straddle his hips and guide his spike inside that tight, tight valve, so slick and hot. He thrust up once, connecting with the sensor cluster at the very top and roared as the overload surged through him. Barely aware of himself, he had no idea what his berthmate was doing until he came down, panting and venting hard, only to feel her valve slide along his still crackling spike.

He whimpered again. How had this happened? She had only offered to help him get back to his room, and that was all he wanted. Not this burning pleasure that spiraled unbidden and unwanted from his spike, causing charge to rapidly build in his circuits once more. If she refused to stop until he'd burned off enough high grade to stop her he'd need ... more than these two. Probably more than she had in her. He'd been rebuilt for war, every system designed for endurance on the battlefield, which translated to the berth.

How many times would he need to clear up enough to force her....

Sideswipe's roar of pleasure blinded him to everything else, even his own thoughts and building self-hated at his inability to do anything but comply.

She had already lifted herself off of him when he came back around, her small fingers _inside_ his valve. They were horribly, terrifyingly gentle, as if not wanting to hurt him. But it was too late for that. This kindness was more damaging than if she had taken him dry and shredded the lining. That he could understand, process as an assault, just a particularly nasty wound. This he had no idea how to categorize. It felt good, but it churned his tanks.

"No," he whimpered again and tried to pull his legs closed, but that only trapped her there, shoved her deeper where he didn't want her. Another finger slid in, pressing against sensors eager to fire, to coat the intrusion in lubricant that conducted his charge.

"But you sure want it," she nearly moaned at the tingling in her fingers as she teased him, seeming to know exactly the right way to touch to draw out lubricant and make him pant.

He couldn't help the groan that rose in response. His traitorous frame did want it, wanted to expel the excess charge running through his systems. But _he_ didn't want it. Didn't want her, didn't want someone other than his twin touching him like this. 

Charge crackled across his frame, valve squeezing the digits inside. It left him burning in the worst way, a fire that would leave invisible scars that no medic could fix.

"So hot and slick." She trilled and removed her fingers, only to press her spike into him. He was aware enough to recognize that it was finely crafted with swirls and nodules, but then she activated a magnetic implant in the tip and all he could do was buck into her and keen with need.

Sideswipe was trapped. Trapped in a body that refused to respond to him. Instead it welcomed that thing inside him, rippled and gripped it to try to bring it in deeper, to hit all of the sensors lining its valve. He could only gasp in pain in his mind as charge crested again at the second thrust, that thing far too eager for the tidal wave of charge that raced through it as the magnetic tip passed over a particularly dense sensor cluster. It was his voice crying unintelligibly for more, but it wasn't _him_. 

Surely she felt it, felt the pain and Do Not Want in his field? He could feel her, no matter how much he didn't want to.

At least her spike design meant his traitorous frame would overload quickly. The faster that cycle went the sooner he could throw her off, beat her, make her _hurt_ for this. She _had_ to know he didn't want it, that it was only his frame responding as it had been designed to. How could she not?

With a gasp and groaning shudder Sideswipe felt a third overload building, so close he could taste the ions. He tuned out her babbling, not wanting to hear how good it felt or that it was doing so well. This was bad enough already.

He couldn't ignore the overload, the burst of hated pleasure lapping at him. That thing that tightened around her, hands gripping her close. And she was still moving, still impaling black hips with her spike, not letting its charge fully abate before rising again, rising too fast. He wanted to turn it off, to shove her away, but he couldn't make it _move_ , not in the way he wanted it to. It wanted this more than it wanted to obey him, so Sideswipe could only focus on not listening, not thinking, on praying that it would all go away.

Another overload washed through him, dragging a moaning roar from its vocalizer. That one almost felt right. It _hurt_. Or at least it felt like it hurt. That it should hurt from high charge and scalding fluid.

Then it was empty, the traitorous channel squeezing down around nothing as she got off the berth, a bit wobbly, and leaned in to kiss its lips. They parted under her assault, an echo of what she just finished doing to it. He could feel fluid trickling down, pooling under its aft, smeared on its thighs, groin, and sides. Should have been acid, burning into plating and peeling away paint.

She stood, said something he didn't bother to hear and walked away, leaving him trapped in his frame and alone on a berth that had once been his sanctuary.

* * *

Sideswipe was shaking as he roused from recharge. He was cold, despite the temperature of the room not being any lower than normal, and he was sticky and... no no no nonono. He was _not_ going to think of why that _stuff_ was on him. He just wanted it OFF.

If he waited a few breems, the washracks would clear out for the shift change and he'd be able to slip in before those coming off-shift could make it there. He'd be late for his own shift, but he would only be assigned an extra duty shift as punishment. He was going to take it anyways.

Sideswipe curled up on himself and whined, rocking in place. He was not going to think, not going to remember. It hadn't happened. No Autobot would do such a thing against one of their comrades. It just didn't happen. And it especially wouldn't happen to Sideswipe, frontliner and prankster extraordinaire.

His chronometer crawled as Sideswipe waited until it was safe to leave this tainted place. He wasn't safe here, he wouldn't be safe here, but he couldn't be seen either. Not like this. 

It was too long, too long, until he made his way to the washracks, every trick learned from pranking now employed to make sure he wasn't seen by optics or camera as he slipped into the room, and claimed a private washrack for himself. The solvent was turned on, as hot as it would go. The red mech grabbed a rough rag and the harshest cleanser available, and began to scrub himself. His mouth, his chest, his thighs and groin... Even his spike and valve. The cleanser ate at his finish, and _burned_ on sensitive equipment, but that was so much better. He _wanted_ it to hurt.

No matter how much he scrubbed, he was still filthy. The grime he wanted to wash off was deep in, untouchable by any cleanser. Not even replacing the plating would get rid of it. Sideswipe finally gave up, he needed to get to his post.

Like he thought, the officer on duty chewed him out for being late and assigned him a punishment shift after the current one ended. That was fine with the red mech. He wanted to be doing, to be busy, to not have time to think. When the second shift was done, he volunteered for a third. Inventorying supplies for the medics, normally a much-hated assignment, was now a reprieve. It kept his processor occupied with counting counting counting, marking down what was there and what wasn't, but it was isolated. No one to watch him. No one to question why his finish was practically stripped away. It was safe. But it was over too soon. He had his next assigned shift, and that was too dull, too boring. Left him too much time to think. The Decepticons were too quiet, nothing happening. And then another shift, again a volunteer one. The red mech was thankful no officer seemed to have noticed how many shifts he was working, wasn't asking him. He could just workworkwork and not remember, not need to go to not-safe places. But he was trembling at the end of his fifth shift. The officer in charge saw and refused to let him volunteer for the next. Told him to get some recharge.

Sideswipe couldn't go back to _that room_. It was not-safe. It was full of memories and pain. Instead, he found a storage closet. He knew it was rarely accessed, having often used it himself to store things that he didn't want to be traced back to him. It would be safe for now, as safe as anyplace could be. He curled up, and tried to get some recharge.

Recharge was hard to come by. It came in fits and starts, and he woke up venting hard and field filled with terror at events already lost to his waking state. He hadn't reacted this way the first time he'd killed, nor had he to any of the near-death experiences he or his twin had experienced. Just that--that.

Eventually he gave up on getting any more rest. His tanks were pinging him. He needed energon. Energon meant the rec room. He didn't want to go, too many people, too big a risk... but there was no choice. He'd collapse in the middle of the orn if he didn't and that meant medbay, and that meant explaining things that Had Not Happened. With no choice left, no chance to delay the inevitable, Sideswipe made his way to the rec room to get a cube of energon. He paused just before the doors, venting hard to settle his nerves, and hit the panel to open the door. Hopefully he'd be able to slip in and out, unnoticed.

"Sideswipe!" the voice he now hated more than anything in the universe was cheerful, happy to greet him.

Sideswipe froze, his vents kicking up. Nono, please Primus, anyone but _her_! He couldn't face her, not yet, not ever.

"You lived up to everything I heard," she told him brightly. Actually she was telling those around her, maybe a dozen mecha, but he barely registered them. He only saw her taking a step forward. "Maybe we can do it again," she purred.

"No!" Sideswipe shouted harshly, backing away. "Don't you understand the word?! I said it then and I'm saying it again. No no no _no_!"

She stopped, a scowl crossing her face. "No? If you didn't want me, how could _I_ force you?" she demanded. "You're _Sideswipe_! I'm just a sniper in training. How could _I_ force _you_ to do anything? Especially overloading inside me twice." She scowled more and stalked up to him. "If this is your idea of a joke it's not funny."

Behind her there was a general murmured, a lot of stares locked on Sideswipe, but he knew what they were saying without hearing it. How she was right. He was _Sideswipe_ , one of the greatest frontline warriors in the army. No way some femme barely in her adult frame could force him to do anything he didn't want to do.

But she had. Repeatedly.

"I was so overcharged that I _couldn't_ do anything!" Sideswipe shot back, his tanks roiling sickly. She was too close, too close. He just wanted his energon and to leave. He didn't want all the optics in the room on him, judging him. It was too much.

She huffed, angry and a bit scared. "You were with it enough to kiss me back, to grab my hips, to get it up and drive into me. You were overcharged and so was I, but you couldn't have been so far gone you couldn't push me off and yet still with it enough to move with me. You overloaded _four times_!"

"It was a fraggin' physical reflex!" Sideswipe shouted, stricken by her words. It hadn't been _him_ , couldn't have been! With a noise that sounded like a wounded mechanimal, he turned and fled the room.

* * *

In the corner where no one ever noticed him, a black and white mech, one of the few Praxian frames still functioning, had watched and heard the entire thing. Training installed long before a spark inhabited his frame guided him to stand and ping the system for an ID confirmation on the mech. A quick check, one he didn't even remember performing, told him that Sideswipe had not gotten his ration in two orns. Unnoticed at the dispenser, he used his officer codes to draw one of Sideswipe's rations and quietly walked out of the rec room while the femme, Arcee, was huffing and going on about how Sideswipe must have wanted it.

Prowl saw otherwise. He saw how the mech had scrubbed himself nearly raw. How the powerful warrior, famed even this early in the war, had cringed away from her as most mecha did from Megatron. She might not grasp what she did as wrong, but at the moment it was a secondary concern. Finding and beginning to heal the damaged Autobot was primary.

Another check with the base computer informed him which direction Sideswipe had fled. He was little surprised to see that it was towards the storage bays, rather than the floor where the personnel quarters were. No, Prowl could give an educated guess at where Arcee had taken Sideswipe, and it was unlikely that the warrior would want to head back there.

His steps as silent as his designation implied, Prowl followed just far enough behind that he wouldn't startle the warrior. He waited until Sideswipe had found the storage locker and settled down.

"Sideswipe? I brought your energon ration." He pitched his voice low, the harmonics of comfort. It was something very few in the army knew him capable of, but they were protocols and a vocalizer set common to every Enforcer in Praxus and most other places. It was a critical part of that function to be able to get skittish, hurt, and frightened mecha to trust you quickly. The harmonics and wing posture didn't always work, but it always helped a little.

The red mech startled badly at the realization that he wasn't alone, hand half-transformed before he recognized the squatting mech as being not a threat. It only took a nanoklik before his expression melted into fear and bewilderment at the presence of a junior tactical officer offering him energon.

"Why?" he asked, voice raw. That one question, with so many possible meanings.

"Because you need it," Prowl said softly, his voice even with a soothing sub-harmonic. "I was an Enforcer before the war. She was wrong."

"How do you know?" Sideswipe cried out, shivering. "I should've... should've..." He curled up on himself, hiding his face in his arms.

"Because of that," Prowl said gently, putting the cube on the floor and giving it a push towards Sideswipe. "Because no means no. Because I recognize when someone is trying to shift blame to protect themselves."

It was several long nanokliks before the red mech reached out and took the cube, but didn't start drinking it. "But... but... She's..." His vents hitched. "Greater strength... greater mass..."

"You were incapacitated. You might as well have been bound or paralyzed. What she did _is_ a crime," Prowl said carefully. "You can have her charged and punished. She might be more cautious next time when a berthmate says no."

Sideswipe shivered and pulled in on himself again. "Who would believe? I know what my rep is."

"A processor scan will reveal the truth," Prowl offered cautiously and crept just a bit closer so the edge of his field could touch Sideswipe's. His contracted in sharply in fear, before hesitantly reaching back out to the Praxian. "It is very strong evidence of what you did, your condition and desires."

"Even though... it..." Sideswipe's vents hitched again, unable to get the words past his vocalizer.

Prowl inched a bit closer, almost within easy striking range. "A frame is designed to respond in certain ways. If you were stimulated for pleasure, it would respond to it. That is how the system is designed."

Sideswipe didn't pull away this time. "Why?" he whispered, brokenly. He hadn't wanted what happened, hadn't wanted it to respond. If it hadn't responded, she might have stopped earlier.

"My best guess is that the engineers didn't think of the abuses mecha commit so they didn't factor for them." He inched a bit closer, now close enough that if Sideswipe struck at him, he'd likely be dead before he could react. "Will you please drink some of your ration? I give you my word as an Enforcer and an Autobot officer that there is nothing in it."

"But... Not worth... don't deserve..." He shivered again, looking at the bright pink liquid. Slowly, hesitantly, he hand came up and he took a sip.

"Being assaulted does not make you worth any less," Prowl said more firmly than he had anything before. It sounded like an order from a much higher ranked mecha. "You are worthy of your energon. You are worthy of a safe place to recharge. You are worthy of comfort. You are worthy of being _safe_."

The Praxian could feel the emotions warring in Sideswipe's field. He _wanted_ to believe Prowl, but he was afraid, so very afraid. 

"Sideswipe..." he offered his hand. "Would you recharge in a berth in an empty room? There are a few. I could get a few things from your old quarters if you'd like too."

"Tried to recharge. Couldn't." Sideswipe replied quietly.

Prowl remained where he was, hand offered. "There are sedatives that might help, if your systems don't burn them off too quickly."

Sideswipe reached out, hand trembling, to touch Prowl's. The energon remained in his other hand, still mostly full. They both felt the relief and gratitude from Prowl with that touch.

Prowl didn't tighten his grip any more than to acknowledge the trust, and began to stand, slowly. "I can tell you how to get the sedatives with a minimum of questions for now."

"Please," Sideswipe whispered, allowing Prowl to guide him to his pedes.

Prowl nodded. "Then drink, please." He nodded to the cube Sideswipe was holding. "Tell the medic you are having difficulty recharging because of nightmares. Allow me to be there. All the medics know I still have full Enforcer coding."

Sideswipe's hand tightened slightly on Prowl's as he obediently drank. Once finished, he nodded to Prowl. He was still terrified, but the warrior was trying to push it down so he could leave the room.

"I will not allow anyone to hurt you, or tease you," Prowl said seriously. He gave a very gentle movement of his hand, testing to see if the warrior was ready. "You are an Autobot. You have every right to be treated with respect."

The red mech squeezed his hand and shifted closer to the Praxian. He might have been considered to be looming, if not for the shriveled, collapsed posture. Prowl made no comment on it. He simply brushed approval for coming across their fields for Sideswipe to teek and lead the mech through lesser-used passages, not towards the medical bay, but towards a lesser used secondary bay.

Even though they were moving through hallways that were inherently emptier, the red mech was still swiveling his helm about, watching for any possible threat. His armor rattled faintly, and he shifted even closer to Prowl, almost too close for them to move properly. It was noticeable to any mech watching the security feed that Prowl easily shifted his posture and stride to accommodate. They reached the satellite clinic quickly and Prowl guided Sideswipe to a seat.

"How can I help you?" Fix-it asked as he came over, optics and a full medical sensor suite scanning them both before fixing on Sideswipe as the likely injured party.

Sideswipe hunched in on himself once more as the medic came close, his hand tight on Prowl's. "Can't recharge. Nightmares," he said tersely, unable to look up from his knees. Prowl could feel the ever-present fear in his field, mixing with shame and self-loathing.

Fix-it glanced between them and Prowl met his gaze.

"He's under my charge," the former Enforcer said simply but firmly.

Without another question the young medic walked away, then came back with a data stick. "It's a powerful program," he warned as he offered it to Sideswipe. "Never use it more than once an orn. If it stops working, and eventually it will, there are other versions. It won't give you the quality recharge you would normally get. It's a lot more like stasis because it has to shut down several sectors that normally process and defrag during recharge. It will get you through a shift though."

Sideswipe nodded, taking the stick. "What happens if it's used more than once an orn?"

"I assume you've suffered a serious hangover before?" Fix it asked, and Sideswipe nodded. "Rather like that, only there's nothing you can take to fix it. It's designed to prevent abuse. Try for three and it will wipe itself. If it doesn't give you a recharge cycle, you need to come in and tell a medic."

"Alright," Sideswipe said, his voice small.

"Then you can go," Fix-it's voice gentled. "Try to get some rest."

Prowl brushed Sideswipe's field and gently tugged his hand to get him to stand. The warrior stood with a nod for the medic, moving close to Prowl and the safety of his presence as they left.

"If it would help you recharge, you may recharge next to me," Prowl offered, careful to emphasize 'recharge' and that it was platonic, not romantic.

"Please?" Sideswipe whispered, spark-breaking in the difference between his current vulnerability and what Prowl knew of his reputation.

"Then come, my quarters will do," Prowl lead him to the junior officers block. "We can do something about your finish as well, if you'll allow me."

Sideswipe shuddered at that. "Couldn't get clean," he replied.

"I know," Prowl said, his field backing up that he really did know. "It will make you feel a little better, eventually."

"I don't see how." Sideswipe's field flickered as he tried to stave off the memories trying to play in his processor. He focused on the solid and solidly platonic presence of Prowl's field against his and how certain the mech was.

"I know, but it will," Prowl assured him, pausing to palm the door open. He lead Sideswipe into a room that while nicer and a bit larger than his own, especially given it was for one mech, had far less indication that anyone lived in it. It was flawlessly clean, ordered, polished and except for the small collection of datapads and chips on the small shelf above the desk, it didn't seem to have any personalization at all.

Even through his fear, there was a small flicker of curiosity. "Where's yer stuff?"

"What little I possessed was destroyed with Praxus," Prowl said simply, the pain evident in his field despite his tight control of it. "I have had little time and less reason to acquire material possessions since. Will you allow me to touch up your finish and polish while you recharge?"

"I'm sorry," Sideswipe said. The loss of Praxus had been a touchy subject for every Praxian he'd come across. He hesitated at next part, still feeling unworthy of the attention.

"It would make me feel better." Prowl offered the warrior an easy out to accepting the attention.

Finally, the red warrior nodded acceptance as he slowly sank onto the berth. He didn't resist as Prowl nudged him to insert the sedative chip into an arm dataport, and didn't resist the blessed blank blackness that was medically induced recharge.

* * *

Prowl was roused a breem early by a shifting moan against his back and the lash of a strained, frightened, distressed field against his. He'd assessed it before he'd booted enough to move, which was not fast enough to save him from a hard whack from the mech sharing his single-mech berth that sent him sprawling onto the floor to finish booting up.

Sideswipe huddled up on himself, vents hitching as he whimpered in remembered fear. It was easy to see that the red mech was still trapped in the nightmare that had invaded his recharge.

With a slight huff Prowl got to his pedes and extended his field to try and sooth Sideswipe before he sat on the berth and carefully touched him, a hand on the big frontliner's shoulder.

Sideswipe onlined instantly at the touch, limbs moving automatically into defensive positions before he was fully aware. When he did recognize who was with him, his arms shot out to wrap around Prowl's waist and buried his face in Prowl's armor. His armor clattered as he shook and vents hitched with choked sobs. Prowl relax into the grab and held the larger, heavier mech. His field extended smoothly to comfort Sideswipe, wrapping the rattled mech in a blanket of calm, steady support.

Unintelligible sounds poured from the red mech's vocalizer as he continued to shake, clinging to the Praxian and the perceived safety of the mech. It was after Prowl normally got up before Sideswipe finally calmed down.

"We both have a shift soon," Prowl tested to see how capable the warrior was of handling that.

Sideswipe gave a shudder. "Can't... let others see..."

"I don't have the authority to get you out of it," Prowl apologized. "Is there anyone that owes you that might take your shift?"

"None that can hear me like _this_ ," he replied with another shudder.

Prowl nodded, his field expressing his understanding and acceptance. "Then we're just going to have to get you settled enough to survive your shift before it starts. What usually helps you settle?"

"Me?" That got a bark of laughter from the red mech. "Normally it's me tryin' to keep Sunny from going off on a mech."

Prowl hummed. "What do you do when you want to calm down? When it isn't about him, but you and your needs."

Sideswipe snorted at that, his arms tightening briefly. "We're rarely apart, and when one of us is upset, so is the other. An' Sunny's temper is a lot more obvious." Even as he spoke though, his field started to even out a little, attention focusing on the conversation rather than the memory-dream.

"Will you tell me about him?" Prowl asked, picking up that talking was as effective as anything he could offer at the moment. "He's so important to you, and I only know him from his tactical profile."

"What about him do ya wanna know?" Sideswipe asked in return.

"What does he do for fun, other than fight where he shouldn't?" Prowl tried for a bit of levity.

"He used to create art," the red mech started softly. "Only the nobility were really able to purchase his pieces... before. He stopped completely when we were forced into the gladiator rings. Even now, he only occasionally doodles rather than work on full pieces. And he's the one that does enjoy 'facing mechs." Sideswipe shuddered at that last one, a brief spike of fear in his field.

"But you're the approachable one," Prowl kept his field soothing, his touch gentle and carefully platonic. "So they come to you, and you hand them off to him. He's good enough in the berth no one seems to notice that you don't join in. How close am I?"

"Exactly it," Sideswipe replied, trembling minutely.

Prowl cooed, trying to soothe. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, Sideswipe. Not all mecha are directed by their interface protocols. Do you spar with him, when he's here? For fun."

"Lotta time," Sideswipe relaxed as the conversation returned to a safer subject. "And I also get into stuff that your type don't really like," he added with a tiny wry smile.

A low chuckle greeted that admission. "So I gathered from your record. But I'm not in the JD and I'm not in your direct chain command either. Tell you a secret? It's good for morale when you do it right. Old General Ironsides knows it too."

That did get a grin out of Sideswipe, the first honest one Prowl had seen. "No one better."

"You'd probably make a good tactician then, if you really are that good," Prowl teased, but he meant it too. "What's been your best prank?"

Sideswipe snorted. "No way am I gonna 'fess up to my best ones, even if you aren't JD. However... Were you here when the officers' washracks started spoutin' Arylide yellow paint?"

"I do not believe so," Prowl searched his memories for such an event. His optics glittered and field gave an almost playful push. "A good one. Annoying, visible, with no credible probability of harm during battle. Does your brother help?"

"Sometimes, but not for every one." Sideswipe shifted, his arms around Prowl loosening. "He'll even do some on his own once in a while, but most of those are against me."

"That is what brothers are for, is it not?" Prowl asked, his tone light and teasing, though the question was real on a level.

Sideswipe snorted, but didn't deny that. He had pranked Sunstreaker just as much as the other way around. Suddenly, his field dipped into a more depressed mood. "He'd kick my aft for acting this way."

"Because he thinks it's the best way to get through to you?" Prowl guessed, hoping he was right. He knew not all brothers got along well, but these two seemed to be close, the violence between them an act of affection, a way to help keep the other alive in a violent existence rather than out of malice.

"Doesn't really know any other way," Sideswipe replied.

That unsettled the Praxian a bit. "It works for you two, though?"

"Usually does," Sideswipe murmured.

"I'll hope it works again, then," Prowl wasn't sure what else to say about it. "Perhaps we can spar after shift, before we go make the report?"

Sideswipe shrugged. "Maybe." His field was unusually apathetic for what was normally a much-anticipated activity.

Prowl hummed softly and gathered Sideswipe close, working to read his field and frame more than the harmonics of Sideswipe's voice. "Do you think you can make it through a shift, or at least hold your voice steady to call in a favor?"

Sideswipe vented heavily, hands tightening and flexing as he considered. "...Yeah, think I can do it."

"You are welcome to stay here when you are not on duty, if you would like," Prowl offered as he stood and gently untangled himself from the warrior. "You have been added to the authorized list. I may not be free in as timely a manner as you."

"Thank you," Sideswipe murmured with complete sincerity.

* * *

Sideswipe was trembling as he and Prowl made their way to the medbay, having just left the JD office to file a report. It wasn't just the prospect of having to relive the event with a medic in his processor... He'd already had to relive it for the officer preparing the report, was drilled in its details. The disbelieving tone had shaken him, and nearly undone all of the progress that Sideswipe had made with Prowl's presence.

The _look_ the JD officer had given Prowl hadn't been missed either, though to his credit, at least in Sideswipe's optics, was that Prowl gave that _look_ right back, utterly unintimidated by whatever it meant.

The medic wasn't one Sideswipe knew, and he really thought he knew them all with as often as he was in the medbay.

"Lay down," the medic, a lightly built mech with little armor but an attitude to rival Ratchet. "You," he locked his sharp blue gaze on a still unruffled Prowl. "Get out. I don't care who you are to him."

"No! I want him here!" Sideswipe replied, shaken. He still needed the presence of someone who understood him, who believed what happened.

His tone alone stopped Prowl's move towards the door and he met the warrior's optics before facing the medic. "Why does he need to be alone?"

"To avoid any interference with gathering evidence," the medic replied stiffly. "Who _are_ you to him?"

"A mech with full Praxian Enforcer coding," Prowl responded, calm and cool despite the implied threat. "I am fully capable of being present without interfering with the evidence gathering. You know the scan will go better if he is calm."

The medic growled and glared, but he couldn't refute the statement, any of it. "Fine. You can hold his hand. Just stay out of my way."

Prowl nodded and remained well out of the medic's way as he stood next to Sideswipe.

Sideswipe relaxed as Prowl approached, grateful that he was staying. He shut off his optics and vented steadily for a couple kliks to settle himself, then opened the dataport cover for the medic, so that he could begin. The medic's presence in his mind was cold, clinical, not at all like the other medics Sideswipe had had plug in. He wasn't destructive however, so Sideswipe didn't resist as the memory block was found and examined, at first without opening it.

~You were very, very overcharged for the last part of this,~ the medic said inside Sideswipe's processors.

~Not the worst I've been,~ Sideswipe replied defensively.

~It hampers recording reliability just as it hampers judgment and physical coordination,~ the medic responded. ~Let's see what was recorded.~

Sideswipe shuddered as the memories began to replay. Him in the rec room, drinking, a pink form approaching and helping him back to his quarters. Dread welled up in Sideswipe as they started touching and kissing before the memory-him realized what was happening and told her "no".

The medic inside his processors didn't so much as twitch. He simply continued to watch, no more affected by Sideswipe's distress than he was by the physical arousal and overloads that caused the recording to completely fuzz out at points.

By the time she'd kissed him goodbye and left, Sideswipe wanted to wrench and lose the energon that Prowl had gotten for him after shift. Still the medic poked around, checking what happened next, and continued to his encounter in the rec room when he'd faced her again.

Prowl's appearance was watched, and watched carefully, as was every other interaction with the Praxian. The memories of Prowl soothed the red mech some, though there were no signs of him treating Sideswipe as anything other than the ward he'd claimed. Even when they were in the berth together or when Prowl held him there was not a hint of arousal.

Eventually the medic backed out and unplugged. "I will deliver the file. I do not believe it is of sufficient quality to prosecute."

Prowl's doorwings flared up. "The trauma is undeniable."

"Yes, however the recording is of questionable quality. A comparison with hers will be the determining factor." The medic said firmly. "You may go. The JD office will alert you when a decision has been made."

Sideswipe whined quietly as he slid off of the medical berth, moving close to Prowl. He didn't think his memories were questionable. What he said, what he felt in comparison to what _it_ did was clear!

"Come," Prowl said with a light touch to Sideswipe's back. "The legal system will move at its own pace now."

Sideswipe nodded, following Prowl out. He moved as close as he could while still able to walk, much like he had following Prowl out of the storage closet. His field was unsettled, woven with a slow-burning fear under the surface.

They were silent as they retraced the path to Prowl's quarters and then inside what was rapidly becoming the safest place in the city to Sideswipe.

"I'm sorry that did not go better," Prowl's regret was genuine, as was his concern for his ward.

"I don't see how he could say that! It was clear what I said! What I _felt_!" Sideswipe shook, collapsing on the berth and wrapping his hands around the sides of his helm.

Prowl sat down next to him and placed a hand on his back. "High grade has been known to do all he said." Despite the words, Prowl's personal doubts flickered through his field.

"I've been so overcharged that I could barely remember what happened the next orn," Sideswipe replied, his field pleading, desperate for Prowl to believe. "I know what that's like. That's not what _these_ memories are like!"

"I have a bad feeling about this prosecutor, this case," Prowl murmured, his voice barely audible in his fear of what the words meant.

Sideswipe whimpered at those words, hands reaching out to Prowl for support and found it given. "What can we do if they don't accept it?"

Prowl rested his helm on Sideswipe's shoulder as he held the larger, heavier mech. "To the best of my knowledge, nothing legally. You can ask for a transfer to be away from her, but that's all I know. I'll look at challenging the assessment, send it up a level. I'll look into other options too, and try to get your brother here soon."

Sideswipe shuddered, his arms holding Prowl tight for several long kliks. "Thank you," he finally said, his voice a harsh whisper.

* * *

Sideswipe vented steadily as he stretched, trying to find the calm center he needed for sparring. It wasn't coming easily; painful, haunting memories crashed through whenever he started to get close. He would get hurt, or Sunny would _die_ , if he didn't get himself together.

Prowl was a little ways off, going through his own preparations. Under other circumstances Sideswipe would have been watching him closely, learning what he could of the style he was about to face and getting a gauge on the skill of his opponent. Right now, he was simply working to get himself in a condition not to make a complete fool of himself.

They'd claimed one of the private sparring rooms, and Prowl had used his officer overrides to lock out unwanted watchers, which at least meant that if Sideswipe was humiliated by being trounced by a junior tactical officer -a mech who probably had never actually seen the battlefield, much less close combat- the only mech that would know was one who'd already seen him much worse. There was nothing that could happen in this room, that Prowl could witness, that would make him think any less of Sideswipe. Prowl had proven that again and again in the last few orns.

Sunstreaker might not have been as kind, for all that his brother would have meant well. Neither of them were good at coping with negative emotions.

Sideswipe shuddered, vents hitching slightly as each stretch brought back memories of unwanted touches, breaking his concentration. He needed to think without memory!

"Aggressor or defender?" Prowl asked, startling Sideswipe from his efforts.

"Defender," Sideswipe replied instantly, without thinking. It was how he and Sunstreaker always started.

Prowl nodded and tucked his doorwings against his back with a small sound of transformation, making him look much smaller, and removing what Sideswipe had long seen as a vulnerability.

Sideswipe settled into a defensive stance, more on memory of muscle cables than actually paying attention to what he was doing. His frame had already betrayed him once. Would it betray him again?

The first strike was fast and low, designed to take an opponent off their pedes, or at least off balance. Even on the aggressive Prowl wasn't a warrior. Sideswipe was almost too late in dodging it, stumbling to the side before resetting his stance. He gave himself a shake, attention returning to the Praxian. Even distracted he noted that Prowl waited for him to be ready. This match was for Sideswipe's benefit.

Prowl moved, keeping himself low and giving away his core training as an Enforcer. No flashy moves, fast but calculated for minimal damage and maximum disorientation, his frame tucked in and angled to give as small a target as possible to ranged weapons. It was everything that Sideswipe's style- learned largely in the pit fights and gladiatorial arenas- wasn't. 

Sideswipe growled in frustration. He was getting hit too many times, having too many close calls. He was better than this, he knew it! If this were an arena match, he'd already be down and at the mercy of the crowds. He could _see_ that Prowl was no match for him. Yes, he gave the tactician points for fighting better than most office staff, but he wasn't a _warrior_ by any stretch.

Why was it so blasted difficult to settle into fight mode? It was pure instinct at this point in his existence. He didn't think, he just _did_. But he just couldn't get into it this time. His processor was whirlingwhirlingwhirling, trying to predict Prowl's next move, trying to fix stances that didn't need it, trying to _not remember_. And he just couldn't get it.

Then Prowl began to _push_. The attacks came faster, moving more like Sunstreaker would in not waiting for him to be exactly ready. Not pounding on him like a real opponent, but pushing, and starting to push hard.

Sideswipe began to falter, hitting the ground and rolling away from Prowl, his field desperate for what he _knew_ he could do. These were beginner moves for him, he should have been able to handle them!

And then...

And then...

And then something snapped in place in his processor. His arm moved effortlessly to block Prowl's incoming blow, and he threw himself to his pedes in time to avoid the next attack. Thinking slipped away from him, and with it memories. His opponent pushed, increasing the speed and skill displayed with each exchange.

Sideswipe stepped up his own speed and skills accordingly, blocking and dodging everything that came his way. His field was calm, almost peaceful as he moved; frame and processors one for the first time since that evening. He felt it without thinking, when his opponent maxed out their skill and it was time to turn the tables. His first strike caught Prowl by surprise and sent the Praxian tumbling, only to have him roll to his pedes with a smooth grace and into completely different stance than he's used up to that point.

Sideswipe unconsciously noted the difference, and the best ways to attack. He paused for a moment before rushing at him directly, to gauge what he would do. Finding himself flying upside down was not the anticipated result. Not against a mech half his mass. He allowed himself roll back to his pedes, and closed in with his opponent again. He feinted one direction before moving in the other, intending get his hands on the smaller mech. 

It was a move Prowl anticipated and dodged, and Sideswipe grabbed for the only part of the Praxian in reach. His fingers closed around metal and gripped, and _pain_ slammed into him across suddenly meshed fields in an actual assault. Sideswipe let go, satisfied with the warning it represented. This wasn't the type of sparring match that encouraged seriously harming one's opponent. The warrior spun and followed the smaller mech, pressing the advantage from the burst of pain.

Prowl wasn't showing any signs of how much he must hurt, both doorwings were high and wide. Their value for sensory input outweighed their vulnerability for the moment.

Sideswipe intended to change that, but first he had to get close to the blasted mech. Prowl was _fast_. Enforcers weren't supposed to be that fast, and office mecha shouldn't be either. He made a charge, intending to feint, only to find that Prowl stepped into the attack instead of away from it and Sideswipe was tumbling again.

He used his momentum to get back on his pedes, barely pausing once they were back under him. Prowl may have been fast, but so was Sideswipe. It was part of why he and Sunstreaker had done so well as gladiators.

Sideswipe was moving again, a circling predator, before closing in again. He made as if to feint for a third time in a row, but instead followed through with his original direction, arm going straight against Prowl's torso and taking him to the floor. They impacted with a grunt, Prowl rolling smoothly with the momentum, but not quite good enough to keep it going and throw Sideswipe off him.

So flat on his back, doorwings splayed and pinned outward by his own frame and with a significantly heavier mech on top of him, Prowl looked up with a calm field and expression. "I yield. My probability of escaping is less than 3%."

Sideswipe rose immediately, his hand out to help Prowl to his pedes. "You're good. Better than standard Enforcers," Sideswipe commented casually. His field was far more settled than Prowl had felt before, a glimpse into the mech he normally was.

"The martial arts have long been of interest to me," Prowl spoke easily as he accepted the hand up. "The discipline and focus required has helped me a great deal in overcoming the obstacles I have faced. I believe I teeked a similar response in your field towards the end. It can be very calming to move without thinking."

"We never put it to words, but yeah. You start thinkin' about what you're doing too much, and you end up reacting too slow," Sideswipe replied.

"Would you like another round?" Prowl offered. "There is time for it."

Sideswipe grinned, shades of his typical recklessness around the edges. "Pits yeah! I wanna see what you can do!"

Prowl smiled back, even if it was only a small quirk of his lips. "I will do my best to show you then."

* * *

Sunstreaker's presence with crossed arms, gleaming finish and a scowl enough to scare Unicron was noted and skirted around by the mechs leaving the post-patrol briefing room. His brother was in there and Sunstreaker was not pleased by what he'd learned of events while he was gone. His engine was growling by the time Sideswipe stepped out. His twin's field was more subdued than he remembered, the impulsive, playful edge he associated with Sideswipe missing. However, blue optics flashed with happiness as they spotted Sunstreaker.

"Sunny!" he cried, throwing his arms around the yellow warrior without a care for his mood. Even though he had to have sensed Sunstreaker's return through their bond, it didn't guarantee when they would actually see each other.

"Don't call me that," the golden warrior growled, but he didn't shove his brother away and his field belied his tone. "You're a mess."

"Yeah, well, stuff happened," Sideswipe replied, leaning into his twin with a quiet sigh, relieved to have his other half back.

"Come on," the grab looked rough, but it conveyed a lot more care than anyone else saw as Sunstreaker hauled his unresisting brother to the enlisted washrack and into one of the larger private cells for those who were _really_ messy and needed extra nozzles. Sideswipe was willingly compliant, willing to allow Sunstreaker to express himself in the best way he knew how. Sideswipe still didn't care much about his finish, but he knew that Sunstreaker did. It was an excuse for them to touch and fuss on each other in public without seeming soft. The brusque treatment was comforting in a way only long familiarity created.

They were largely silent except for Sunstreaker's blunt commands for his brother to move this part or another, and his grumbling about the state the red warrior was in. All done unconsciously to tell people they _weren't_ doing anything untoward in the enclosure.

Three groons and Sunstreaker was satisfied enough to drag his brother to the drying room and helped him dry with as many commands as helping hands.

Sideswipe gradually relaxed under his brother's hands and the familiar motions. Whatever had happened, this was letting him forget it for a bit and just _be_. It was a welcome relief, an extended time of what he had achieved moments of against Prowl. His brother was back. Things would be okay now. Together they were strong.

"Come on," Sunstreaker huffed when he was satisfied that Sideswipe was clean and dry enough for a polish and waxing, a process that he usually dragged out for a good joor or more when he could. Tonight, they needed it.

Sideswipe just hummed a reply. He didn't care how much Sunstreaker fussed over him, not the way he normally did. It was too good to have him _there_. There was no way he would let them be separated again, what the army needed be slagged.

It took a while before the familiar twists and turns caught up to him, and he began to slow, fear welling up in his field.

"Sides?" Sunstreaker's tone was low, openly concerned as he turned to face his brother with a scowl that was of worry.

"Can't go in there," Sideswipe murmured, optics wide when they met Sunstreaker's. "Can't go in _there_."

Sunstreaker scowled, but the fear pouring over their bond, wide open now that they were barely an arm's length apart, was enough to stop his comeback.

"All right. Where can you go?" he asked, unsettled by what he was feeling from the other half of his spark.

"Officer's section," Sideswipe replied, taking the lead and walking quickly to get away from a place that still held bad memories for him. Prowl would likely still be working in his office, and his quarters were safe and private.

"Prowl," Sunstreaker guessed. "He's the one who told me you needed me back sooner rather than later. He's an officer?"

"Yes, Tactical." They turned a corner and entered a hall that held quarters for junior officers. "Used to be an Enforcer."

"It shows," Sunstreaker huffed but didn't speak out against the agency that had long failed them. "He gave you his code?" he scowled more, but in confusion as the door slid open for them.

"Yes," Sideswipe replied, settling a little as the door closed, though he was no longer as relaxed as he was in the washracks. "Couldn't recharge in that room."

Sunstreaker regarded him seriously even as he noted just how little personalization was in the room. There was more evidence of Sideswipe's residency than the owner's. "All right, bro, what happened?"

The red twin shuddered, optics offlining as he fought off still-painful memories. His vents picked up and hitched, and he dropped onto the edge of the berth. "I... I..." he started, but couldn't continue.

Sunstreaker scowled, genuinely concerned now as he sat down next to his brother. "What happened in our quarters?"

"Went to the rec room... got overcharged... 'cause you were away," he began haltingly. Armor plates began to rattle, fear and lingering self-loathing pouring over the bond. "Was offered help... to get back..." His vocalizer cracked as he tried to choke back sobs.

"Who needs to be mangled?" Sunstreaker's engine rumbled dangerously. "Designation."

"Arcee," Sideswipe managed to choke out, a hand reaching out to grab Sunstreaker's arm as a lifeline.

An angry rev vibrated them both. "I'll bring you her helm." Sunstreaker promised, even as he didn't try to stand or pull away.

"Prowl helped me file a report," Sideswipe said, voice strained. "Tryin' th' legal way for once."

"As if that ever works," he huffed, but didn't actually object. Awkwardly he put an arm around his brother and held him. "Is she really that scary?"

"She doesn't even think she did anything wrong!" Sideswipe cried out, hands clinging to Sunstreaker's armor. Sunstreaker embraced him, less than certain of how to handle this while trying to give his brother what he seemed to need.

"Then we'll teach her," Sunstreaker said firmly. "That's what we do."

Sideswipe buried his face in his brother's neck, shuddering as hated memories replayed. He'd been getting better at ignoring them, but having to tell Sunstreaker had busted the dam he had created.

The golden warrior sighed and held him a little tighter. "I know it sucks big time, but it does get better."

"I hate this!" Sideswipe hissed. "I hate having the memories keep replaying over and over."

"I know," Sunstreaker repeated, resting his chin on his brother's helm, effectively tucking him against his frame. "She took what is _ours_. You have to get over it. You can't let her be the last memory."

"I can't do that right now, bro. I can't." Sideswipe shivered, pressing closer. "Been sparring with Prowl. It's helped."

"He's been really good to you," Sunstreaker said, gathering that it was a massive understatement. "Know why?"

"Something about bein' an Enforcer, from what I've been able to gather," Sideswipe replied quietly, frame relaxing as they moved to a slightly better subject.

"He really hasn't asked for anything?" he had to pressed. "Codes to his quarters, all that time, what's he getting out of it?"

"Nothing," Sideswipe confirmed. "He hasn't mentioned favors or anything like that."

"He must be glitched, but what a glitch," Sunstreaker managed a small smile. "We'll have to look out for him. There aren't many good mecha left."

"Yeah." Sideswipe shifted into a more comfortable position against his brother. "He's better than you'd expect from an Enforcer and desk-jockey, but he could still use bodyguards."

"He is now?" Sunstreaker perked up. "Has he learned anything from you yet?"

"He's had some martial arts training. 'S pretty good. He's doing a bit better than when we first started sparring, but his style's really different." By now, Sideswipe's field was evening out and beginning to mesh with his brother's.

"Which means he's defensive," Sunstreaker hummed thoughtfully. "Suitable given his function. Does he know about us?"

"Not explicitly, but yeah," Sideswipe replied. "Figured it when he was asking me about you."

"Good," Sunstreaker murmured, shifting to kiss his brother's stubby sensory horn. "Wouldn't he be off shift by now?"

"Technically, yeah, but he tends to work late," Sideswipe replied quietly. Instinctively, reflexively, he pressed into the kiss and the possessive touch, even as he tensed unhappily.

"Good," Sunstreaker rumbled, his lips moving down Sideswipe's helm to try and capture his mouth.

Sideswipe whimpered as his twin's mouth caught his, his field flaring with fear even as he forced himself to remain in place and not shove Sunstreaker away.

"You _need_ to get past her," Sunstreaker rumbled, the arousal in his field almost imperceptible over his concern. "You know I'm not going to hurt you."

"That's why you're not flying across the room," Sideswipe replied, hands tight on Sunstreaker's armor.

"Glad you still have some fight in you," the golden warrior grinned and kissed his brother again, demanding but not forcing.

The spike of fear was less, and the red twin didn't have to work as hard to keep from pulling away from his other half. "I didn't, those first orns," he admitted quietly when Sunstreaker broke the kiss.

"As long as you got it back," he stroked strong hands along Sideswipe's flanks and dipped his helm to kiss and lick along taunt neck cables. "Remember the other times one of us has been seriously hurt. It always takes some time to get the fire back."

Sideswipe shuddered, half in fear and half in pleasure, before venting hard and tilting his helm to give him more room. Memories, hated memories flashed before his vision, but he tightened his grip on Sunstreaker to remind him of _who_ he was with. "Needed you back."

"I'm here now," he rumbled, slowly working along his brother's throat and neck while his hands worked on seams and sensor clusters that always drew moans from the red one. "I'm not going anywhere."

"No hands Sunny, please," the red twin whimpered, struggling to shove down a rising tide of fear.

"Right," he stilled his hands, shifting to simply hold his brother as he moved up for a kiss, stroking his glossa along red lip plates.

Sideswipe moaned for the first time as he opened his mouth for Sunstreaker. His hands were still tight on yellow armor, almost denting as he tried to force himself to remember the good times. His frame remembered and was eager for the pleasure and safety of Sunstreaker's attentions, even if his processors were having a much harder time of it as their glossa dueled and Sunstreaker gradually leaned forward to lay Sideswipe down on the soft berth.

He paused when Sideswipe pushed back on him. Instead, they shifted so that the red twin was on top, frame covering yellow as they continued to kiss. It continued like that for several kliks until Sideswipe pulled back and tucked his helm along his brother's neck with a murmured that they needed recharge.

With a reluctant sigh Sunstreaker hummed his agreement, though he waited until Sideswipe had settled into a deep recharge before shutting down himself.

* * *

The next orn, Sunstreaker decided he needed to speak to the mysterious officer helping Sideswipe and get some answers. A quick database check informed him that Prowl only had a terminal in the main tactical center, which was very not-private for what would ultimately be a private conversation. The yellow warrior needed details of what had happened to Sideswipe, and he needed to know exactly what the junior tactician wanted in return for helping him.

The rec room was also ruled out as a meeting place for privacy reasons, and Sunstreaker didn't feel comfortable talking about it in his quarters. He did find a private sparring room that was conveniently empty when the schedule said that Prowl was off duty and sent a text message to Prowl requesting that he meet the warrior there. In the meantime, Sunstreaker could practice and burn off some of his frustration before the other mech arrived.

Prowl texted back that he'd be there in a breem and a half, and right on time the door opened and the Praxian walked in. The first thing Sunstreaker noticed was that despite the fall of Praxus and becoming an Autobot tactician, the mech still wore the colors and all the markings of his station as a precinct chief in addition to his Autobot brand.

"Prowl," the yellow warrior greeted him, wary optics taking in everything they could about the mech, from his frame type and probable strengths and weaknesses, the way he moved, to his expression.

"Sunstreaker," Prowl canted his doorwings politely as the door closed and locked behind them. "Are we here to spar or talk?"

"Talk first," Sunstreaker replied. It would give him a chance to decide on how hard he wanted to go on the Praxian. "So. What happened to Sideswipe? The full version. He could barely speak about it when I asked him."

"I'm not surprised. Friend rape is intensely traumatizing," Prowl settled himself for the full recount as Sideswipe gave in the report, and what Prowl had heard, leaving out not a single detail.

Sunstreaker listened, his engine revving in anger the further into the account that Prowl went. That this had happened to his brother, when he wasn't there to protect him!

When Prowl finally finished, he looked directly at Sunstreaker. "Is there anything else I can tell you?"

"Why'd you help him?" the yellow warrior rumbled. "He had no connection to you."

"I still retain full Praxian Enforcer coding."

"Helping him file a report, giving him access to your quarters, probably helping him get energon and getting him in the washracks too," Sunstreaker listed off, tone almost accusatory. "What are you hoping to get out of it?"

"It is still my primary function to assist those who are victims of a crime," Prowl attempted to explain. "It is nothing I have not done before, even if my resources are far more limited than they used to be."

"Letting someone use your quarters and berth is still a bit extreme, isn't it?" Sunstreaker challenged.

"He couldn't recharge alone," Prowl countered, though it was a weak argument and he knew it. "It felt good to act on my enforcer coding again."

"How am I supposed to believe that?" Sunstreaker asked, optics flashing. "No one's that selfless, especially not _Enforcers_."

Prowl flinched and stepped back, his doorwings flaring in a mixture of shock and distress. It took a moment but he straitened out and face Sunstreaker squarely. "Ask your brother if I've asked anything of him. All I have demanded is that he continue to work his shifts as is his duty. That is all I will demand of him. Now that you are here and he has kin to care for him, I may step back unless he seeks me out."

"Give me a _real_ answer!" Sunstreaker snarled, lunging forward to punch the black and white mech. He saw reflexes that were decidedly not Enforcer or Autobot kick in as Prowl's stance shifted and the punch was caught and directed away, causing Sunstreaker to stumble briefly while Prowl got several paces away and settled into a defensive stance.

"It is the truth. I have asked nothing and I will ask nothing." Prowl insisted calmly.

"What is it? Gonna ask us for a favor later?" Sunstreaker kicked out. "Gonna ask us to take care of a problem mech for you? Gonna brag about having us in your berth?"

The utterly horrified look on Prowl's face had nothing to do with taking the kick square to the chest.

"No!" he snarled and got to his pedes, still holding a defensive stance. "Why would I brag about something that can have me stripped of my rank and thrown in the brig? _Think_ Sunstreaker. I'm an officer. I have everything to loose with the wrong rumors or if your brother lies." A nasty look curled Prowl's lip up. "And I take care of my own problem mecha."

"Then what is it, huh? What's your angle?" Sunstreaker pushed, closing in and attacking again.

"I'm a _Praxian Enforcer_ ," he snapped back, insistent as he slid out of the way. "Helping victims is what I was _created_ to do."

"'Helping victims' doesn't sound like any Enforcer I've ever encountered!" Sunstreaker shot back as he continued his offensive.

"In Praxus?" Prowl growled and blocked, offended to his core even as he knew it wasn't personal.

"Didn't have to deal with Enforcers when we could afford to go to Praxus," Sunstreaker replied, stepping up his attacks.

"True Enforcers were created to _serve_ the people," Prowl managed to get out as the attacks reached his skill limit and began to push beyond it.

"Then why do they always manage to end up serving _themselves_ first?" Sunstreaker retorted, pushing.

"Not the ones I served with," Prowl responded the only way he could as a kick to the helm slammed him into the wall.

Sunstreaker took advantage to pin him to the wall roughly, the light hold on his neck belying the strength Sunstreaker could put on it if he so chose. "That's not convincing."

"Words and my record are all I have," Prowl pointed out, calm despite the position he was in.

Sunstreaker growled, but he could teek the honesty in the smaller mech's field. He let go of the Praxian, but began to pace the room like a caged animal without a target to vent its frustrations on.

"There are training drones you can turn to scrap," Prowl suggested, rather hoping not to become the target.

"If I was going to pound you, I would have done it while you were trapped," Sunstreaker said, voice harsh. "I want to pound some _one_ into scrap, though. Maybe starting with that fragger that hurt Sideswipe."

"That is something we have in common, even if I will never act on it," Prowl told him. "You will do Sideswipe more good remaining at his side, rather than in the brig."

Sunstreaker eyed him. "What're you gonna do now?"

"The law," doorwings flicked in a shrug. "Have you had any luck getting him back in your quarters?"

"No. He does not react well even approaching it," Sunstreaker admitted.

"Best to request new quarters then," Prowl vented roughly. "I had hopes that he would feel safe enough with you to work through that."

Sunstreaker grunted in agreement. It hurt that his brother didn't feel safe enough with him to go to their room or the rec room. "So is he going to bunk with you until that goes through?"

Prowl hummed. "Tonight. You will have new quarters near the beginning of first shift."

Sunstreaker actually paused in his pacing and stared at the junior officer. "It takes decaorns for requests like that to go through."

A tiny smile crossed Prowl's features. "Not when the quartermaster likes you. I asked him to approve the request and new quarters as soon as he saw it."

"Dare I ask _why_ he likes you?"

Prowl shrugged his doorwings. "I was bored my first metacycle here, so I volunteered to organize the system."

"...Thank you," Sunstreaker ground out, the words burning his vocalizer.

Prowl hesitated, then stepped forward and placed a hand on the warrior's shoulder, his field teeking of support. "You are welcome. Why don't we scrap a training drone or two?"

Sunstreaker nodded jerkily, hands briefly forming fists in anticipation.

* * *

Two orns later they were in their new quarters and Sunstreaker was still working on undoing the damage Sideswipe had done to his finish, or so went the reasoning. The truth they both knew was that he missed his brother deeply and instead of coming back from a long mission to a warm berth, eager spike, slick valve and glittering spark, he came back to a traumatized mech that sometimes he could barely touch. A mech that had also once brought him berthmates whenever he pleased, but couldn't even socialize anymore.

So Sunstreaker did what he could to be close to Sideswipe and endless fussing about his finish was the best idea he'd come up with so far. It certainly helped that the fussing was one of the few ways that Sideswipe could relax under his touch. Right now that was what the red mech was doing, stretched out on the berth and completely compliant to Sunstreaker's directions and the touch that bordered on sensual.

He tensed when he received a message from the Justice Division.

"Got a message from JD," he warned his brother, sitting up. Then he froze as he read it, beginning to tremble. "No..." he whispered.

"They denied you," Sunstreaker didn't need to see the message to know what it said. The reason given didn't matter. The law had protected the more respectable mecha once more.

"Said that my memories were too questionable due to overcharge," Sideswipe whimpered and grabbed his brother's arms, needing to know his brother believed him, at least. "But they aren't! They're too clear for that!"

"I know," Sunstreaker pulled him into a rough embrace. "So we hoped they'd do the right thing and they didn't. Now it's time to make things right _our_ way."

His twin clung to him as a lifeline. "Thought it would make a difference, with Prowl backing me up."

"The mech tried, I'll give him that, but he doesn't know how the _real_ system works, Enforcer or no," Sunstreaker growled, his engine adding to the low rumble of death and destruction that so often soothed his brother. They were strong together. Together nothing bad happened. Together they had taken everything that came their way and beaten it.

"Need something _done_ ," Sideswipe said, pressing his face into Sunstreaker's armor. "Played by their fraggin' rules. They didn't do _scrap_!"

"And now _we_ will," Sunstreaker repeated. "We'll make this even, _our_ way."

Sideswipe's hands tightened on Sunstreaker's armor as a burst of fear colored his field at the thought of getting near Arcee, but was quickly replaced with determination. "Need to show that mecha don't mess with us," he said, voice still unsure, but stronger than it had been since Sunstreaker returned.

"That's right. No one messes with us and gets away with it," Sunstreaker growled, his field full of determination. "She _will_ pay for hurting you. She will be the one afraid of us."

"Need you for it," Sideswipe admitted. "Won't be able to do it alone."

"You won't." Sunstreaker promised. "I'm not abandoning you. Just tell me what we're going to do to her and it'll be done."

"Get her overcharged. Overcharged and drugged and just as bad off as I was," Sideswipe said slowly. "And take her to her quarters and _scare_ her."

"Tell her all the things we could do, a bit of touching, string her up, but nothing that leaves a physical mark?" Sunstreaker rolled the idea over in his processors. It was more subtle than he was thinking of, but also _much_ more legal. Shooting her in battle or getting her captured were much more permanent results, but also far more risky.

"Yes. Something that the JD would be hypocritical about if they tried to prosecute us," Sideswipe said.

"Unless they can prove she was drugged and we drugged her, nothing we'd do is even against the regs," Sunstreaker pointed out. "It's just talk."

"Yes," Sideswipe agreed, then leaned in and kissed Sunstreaker for the first time since the yellow mech's return. It wasn't passionate the way he remembered, but it was honest, and the red twin had _initiated_ it. It felt wonderful to Sunstreaker, who kissed him back, firmly and ardently, but demanded no more. It was progress and he could live with that.

* * *

Sideswipe chatted with Sunstreaker as they sat in a private booth in the rec room. The last couple orns had seen improvement in the red mech's confidence, hints of the mech that could charm a room peeking through once more. His frame even showed evidence of him having scrubbed himself after his last shift, as opposed to Sunstreaker's meticulous methods. It improved the mood of more than one mecha who thought himself as Sideswipe's friend, even if Sideswipe didn't see them as anything more than an acquaintance. The red hellion was a major feature in the social scene and his absence had been _noticed_.

"I hear Acree has asked for a transfer," a familiar black and white frame walked by.

"Prowl!" Sideswipe called out. "Get your cube and join us!"

The Praxian was visibly startled for a nanoklik, then nodded. He had a shy smile for them when he sat down a klik later with his ration. "It is good to see you here, Sideswipe."

"It's good to be back in here," Sideswipe replied with a grin. "Now, what's this about a certain femme?"

"I saw it through a tactical notice," Prowl smiled a little more deviously. "She's being reassigned. Seems she wants to be closer to Springer. I think she wants to be further away from someone here."

"Gee, I wonder who she'd want to get away from," Sideswipe said in a voice dripping with faked innocence, giving his brother a sly look.

"I can't imagine," Prowl said, utterly deadpan. "But maybe whoever she angered here left an impression she learned from."

"Maybe she shouldn't be angering mecha in the first place," Sunstreaker said.

"I know I'll feel better walkin' the halls with her gone," Sideswipe admitted quietly. "But hey! Maybe we should celebrate a bit!" he added with a bit more cheer.

"Doesn't that typically involve things my kind shouldn't know about?" Prowl asked, his voice even but his field teasing.

"Nah, not this time," Sideswipe teased back with a wink.

"Then what do you have in mind?" Prowl asked, coolly curious and privately thrilled that he was being included in anything.

"Maybe a little extra energon, find something to occupy us?" Sideswipe grinned. "There's sparring, or we could possibly find something else to do."

Sunstreaker perked up at that, knowing what the tone had always meant before, but he also watched Prowl carefully. He wasn't a mech that was seen at parties and by all accounts he didn't interface. But there was no telling if he'd catch on to Sideswipe's possible suggestion either.

"I'd be agreeable to that," Prowl nodded, his field teeking of nothing along the lines of arousal but there was definite interest in spending time with them.

In a way, that made Sunstreaker even happier.

**Author's Note:**

> Fandom: Transformers G1 Early War  
> Author: gatekat, flybystardancer on LJ  
> Pairings: Arcee/Sideswipe, Sideswipe/Sunstreaker, Prowl  
> Rating: NC-17  
> Codes: Historical, Sticky, Rape, Rape Culture, Twincest  
> Summary: Early in the war Sideswipe goes out drinking when Sunstreaker is away. It goes down hill from there until one of the few remaining Praxians comes to his defense.  
> Disclaimer: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page <http://www.gatekat-fics.livejournal.com/290.html>. We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.
> 
> nanoklik = 1/8 second;  
> klik = 496 nanokliks/62 seconds;  
> breem = 8 kliks/8.27 minutes;  
> groon = 9 breem/1.24 hours;  
> joor = 6 groon/7.44 hours;  
> orn = 42 joor/13.02 days;  
> decaorn = 32 orns/1.14 years;  
> metacycle = 8 decaorn/9.22 years;  
> vorn = 9 metacycles/72 decaorn/83 years;  
> ::text:: comm chatter  
> ~text~ hardline/bond chatter
> 
> Prompt: <http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/11776.html?thread=13157632#t13157632>
> 
> OKAY. So this has been eating at my brain for weeks and weeks, but I just don't have the skills for it.
> 
> Rape culture is an awful thing, unfortunately it's not just our society that has it. For TFs, it can be the same, revealing armor, intoxicated, going certain places, a bad reputation, etc.
> 
> For this I would like to see Sideswipe being taken advantage of (likely over-charged) by someone who's heard that the Twins will sleep with anything that moves. Having been turned down before, Mech A still wants to get with the red devil and tries again, this time scoring an escort to Sideswipe's room. Things get hot and heavy and are going alright until panels click open. Sides' says no and while that should be that, it's not. Mech A continues on, oblivious to the fact that he is now raping his partner, or worse, doesn't care as there was implied consent given. Sideswipe is charged enough that he can't put up a good enough fight/ has also had bad experiences before and knows that fighting back just ends badly. And since Mech A IS putting genuine effort in to make this good, Sideswipe overloads (more trauma? or knows it's just a reaction to the stimulus. Knowing his reputation as a prankster/trouble-maker he doesn't even try to report it.
> 
> Next orn/day/event/gathering of mechs Mech A is bragging about scoring the red twin and Sideswipe, sober and hurting reacts in anger. Shouts that he said NO and goes off on a rant only to have it thrown back in his face that if he hadn't REALLY wanted it he would have stopped Mech A, and wouldn't have overloaded. The mechs assembled with Mech A agree leading to more trauma.
> 
> ENTER MECH B. Mech B is horrified by his faction's response to this and goes to comfort Sideswipe. Cuddles, comfort, everything a big tough mech like Sideswipe 'doesn't need'. Can lead to tender-facing, can just be cuddles, as long as there is LOTS of comforts. (Possibly help reporting Mech A?)
> 
> Bonus Points! Mech B is Prowl, Perceptor or Skyfire.  
> Moar Points! Sunstreaker is off on a mission and that's why everyone still has their limbs attached.


End file.
